Prosecutor
by WallofIllusion
Summary: They were calling the kid a genius, and Diego couldn't argue with that--but that didn't mean he had to like the kid. Tiny bit of swearing.


So one day, puzzled by the amount of Diego x Young Edgeworth there is in the world, I decided to write interaction between them that wasn't romantic.

K for a teensy bit of swearing

Watch out for irony, I wield it like a sludgehammer. (Nooooot kidding!)

* * *

**Prosecutor**

Lounging on the couch in the prosecutor's lobby with a mug of coffee, Diego wasn't surprised when the young prosecutor glared at him upon entering the room.

"You're in the wrong lobby, old man," the prosecutor informed him.

"Oh, I'm not here as a defense lawyer," Diego shrugged in response. "I just have a few things I want to say to you... Prosecutor Edgeworth."

Edgeworth turned his back on Diego and opened his briefcase to organize some papers. "And what makes you think I have any interest in listening to you?"

"Ha...! It doesn't matter to me whether you think you want to listen to me or not. But I've got some advice for you, and I'm going to say it."

"I don't need your advice, old man."

"Fine, then, I'll start with a question: you think you're pretty good, don't you, boy?"

Turning back to face Diego, Edgeworth commented, "If you're going to suggest otherwise, I'd like to see you back up your statement."

"Oh, I won't dispute that." Diego took a sip of his coffee. "That fact's pretty undeniable. You have skill. You have connections. You have one hell of an attitude. Those are all valuable traits for any sort of lawyer. I simply wonder if you ever question the path you've chosen."

Edgeworth's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"Ever heard this one? 'You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you cannot fool all of the people all of the time.'"

"I've heard it. What does it have to do with anything, exactly?"

"Oh, come on." Diego shifted so that his legs dangled over the arm of the couch. He exuded casualness, knowing that it would grate on the nerves of this pompous, carefully-groomed boy. "A smart kid like you, you can figure out what I'm telling you."

He raised an eyebrow at Edgeworth, who merely glared back.

"What you're doing, you're doing well," Diego admitted. "Very well. Oh, the smart ones can see through you, but you don't leave them any chance to accuse you, so what can they do? Someday, though, someone'll come along, someone naïve and stupid enough to question your methods. What'll you do then?"

"I'll defeat that person, naturally."

"You think so?"

"Mr. Armando." Edgeworth folded his arms. "I have been studying to be a prosecutor since I was nine years old. Furthermore, it was under the legendary Baron von Karma himself that I studied. I am not about to be defeated by mere naïveté."

"Ha...! You underestimate the combined powers of luck and pluck, my little friend."

"I don't appreciate your patronizing attitude, old man," the young prosecutor snarled. "I've heard what you have to say and it doesn't impress me. If you would kindly _leave_--"

"Hey, hey." Diego stood, spreading his arms wide in a theatrical shrug. The kid was starting to piss him off again, but he wouldn't let that show. "Who says I've said all I have to say? I haven't even been in here long enough to finish a single cup of coffee."

"Nevertheless, I think I'll ask you to vacate the prosecutor's lobby, where you don't belong anyway. ...If you please."

"You know, I met your late father once, Prosecutor Edgeworth," Diego said suddenly.

The prosecutor stiffened. "And?"

"He was my role model, actually. I was still a kid at the time, of course, still back in high school, but I was already interested in law. I liked watching your father's trials. He was a good lawyer. If not the best in the area before his unfortunate death, he was certainly unparalleled in one aspect—his honesty."

Edgeworth's scowl deepened. He probably sensed where Diego's story was going.

"I'm sure you've already noticed this about me and don't care in the least, but I'm a pretty cynical guy. Always have been, even back in school. Even back then, I'd acknowledged the 'truth' of the legal system, the truth that you've adapted to so well—the fact that truth is what you make it, in the courtroom. But your father was different. He always believed in his clients and strove for the the _real_ truth. And despite that, he was _good_. He'd made a career and a name for himself on those ideals. I was fascinated. ...I was curious to know if I could do that, too, so I asked him for an internship the summer before my senior year of high school. Do you know what he told me?"

"Father never took any interns," Edgeworth replied impassively.

"Ha...! True, true." Diego finished off the last of his mug of coffee. It was starting to cool, anyway. "But the reason he gave me... I wonder if you can guess it, Prosecutor Edgeworth?"

Edgeworth didn't answer.

"He told me he already had a full-time intern in his son."

He glared.

"Of course, he meant as a defense attorney."

More like glowered.

Diego gave a short sigh through his nose. "I'm not going to ask you 'What happened?' or 'Why did you become like this?' because I know the answer to the first question and can guess the answer to the second. I just want to make sure you realize that you've turned your back on your father's ideals."

Meeting the prosecutor's eyes, Diego found fury, but also... a shield. Like a bandage over a wound. So he'd found a vulnerable spot.

Well, that was useful, but it hadn't been his intention. He'd gotten carried away.

The prosecutor said, "I will only ask you once to take your nose out of things that don't concern you and stick it back into that coffee you love so much. Is that clear?"

An act. It wasn't as if the boy could do anything if Diego continued to press the point. Lucky for him, though, Diego had no such intention.

"Just one more thing, boy," Diego said.

"And that is?"

"If we ever meet in court and you try to pull any of your little tricks, you had better make _damn_ sure you cover your tracks, because I won't stand for what you're doing."

The prosecutor pressed his lips together in a simpering smile. "I'm afraid I simply don't know what you're talking about, old man."

"Ha...!" Deciding no more comment than that was necessary, Diego left the prosecutor's lobby and shut the door behind him

_I'll be looking forward to that battle, boy._


End file.
